


Where's the Rosetta Stone for the Languages of Love?

by technicaldragon



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Love Languages, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Touch-Starved, Unrequited Love, Will add more as the fic goes on, basically this whole fic is a study in love languages, kinda Shane centric so we tragically have to go into all that stuff, like the plan is to have damn near every romance trope I can tolerate in here, non binary farmer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28357719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technicaldragon/pseuds/technicaldragon
Summary: There are 5 love languages; acts of service, words of affirmation, gift giving, quality time, and physical touch. But these five things mean something different to everyone who encounters them, as does love. So just like any language, things are bound to get lost in translation. It sure feels like someone should have made a handbook for this whole falling in love thing.AKAHe was a depressed alcoholic, they were a manic farmer, can I make it anymore obvious?
Relationships: Shane/Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya everyone! I know I haven't updated WDNWC in over a year but like, the pandemic is a bitch and my muse will only focus on Shane SDV rn, what can you do.
> 
> I really wanted to do a fluffy fic that focused on love languages for my newest husband, cause as much as I love the game I can't kiss him nearly as much as I should be allowed to.
> 
> Of course this is a Shane fic that will go over things like his heart events and other unsavory things. I will do my best to tw// at the beginning of chapters that will focus on this, especially certain things. For the most part its going to be a lot of what you'd expect for a bog standard Shane fic. I hope you like it all the same!

Shane couldn’t remember the last time a shift had been this grueling. One of those shifts where the only thing that got him by was imagining the day he would one day tell Morris where to fucking stick it. Some damn clerical error resulted in half of their milk stock going sour and it was put on Shane to get it all swept into the back room and poured down the drain. He wasn’t sure if one could die from rotten milk fumes but Shane was willing to submit to medical scrutiny after the day he just had. The smell had sunk its claws into his clothes and as he made his daily trek into town after work he considered throwing himself in the river outta hope that it would put an end to his suffering.

All he wanted was to get to the saloon and drown out this shitty day in shitty beer and wallow in the sounds of the town enjoying the arrival of the weekend. Maybe he could finally just sleep for the whole weekend and not have to worry about anything until his next shift on Mond-

Both Shane and his thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he collided head on with someone attempting to sprint across the bridge. Whoever it was had quick reflexes; their arms seemed to wind around Shane before he even realized, saving him from eating complete and utter shit on the concrete.

“Wow, we just met and you’re already falling for me,” Shane’s head snapped up to meet his rescuer’s eyes. “That’s gotta be a new record.”

Carefully they made sure Shane was still on his feet. They had several inches on him and had to lean down slightly to check and make sure he had all his limbs. The warm echo of their arms around him made his touch starved heart ache. The stranger seemed to finish their once over and looked satisfied with him being in one piece, their short red hair just long enough to start falling in their eyes.

“I don’t know you,” Shane scowled. “Why the fuck are you talking to me.” He was almost surprised by his own brashness and he could kick himself over the kicked puppy look this stranger gave him.

“I just moved into the farm north of Cindersap,” they answered automatically, though there seemed to be a fire behind their eyes, making the spring green take on an odd flinty hardness. “I’d been trying to introduce myself to everyone.” Straightening out- they beat some invisible dust off their impressively pink overall shorts. With a nod they used their stupid long legs to stride off into the mountains.

Yoba this Friday could not be over soon enough.

  
  


The end of a Friday in Pelican Town meant that Stardrop Saloon held damn near every resident of the town- excluding the children. That also meant that Shane tried to drown his sorrows as quickly and effectively as possible, though most people didn’t bother trying to include him in their end of the week wind down rituals, they know better by now.

By now, the night was in full swing. The jukebox was full of coins and set for the night and people were settled into their friend groups and ready to ride the night out- then the bell above the door announced a newcomer. Shane glanced up, the alcohol already chugging through his system making his vision swim a bit.

Framed in the doorway was the stranger from several hours ago, though it looked like they had tried to clean up; their hair was styled in a mohawk showing off their cleanly shorn sides, but any semblance of style ended there as they had pulled a garish purple and orange flannel over their overalls- shoving the sleeves up their forearms.

“Rowan!!” Sam’s screech startled not only Shane, but seemingly most of the bar- including their newest addition. “You came, I was worried you’d pass out in the woods again or something.” He grabbed their arm and practically dragged them across the saloon to the pool table where Sam usually spent Fridays after work with his friends.

“Sorry,” Shane caught their- Rowan’s eyes as they were pulled past him. What a pathetic sight to see, a loser nursing a beer alone in the corner. He averted his eyes back to his drink. “I found a skull to take to the museum and ran into trouble on the way-” Shane winced, that explained where they were going, “so I had to take the long way around.”

The purple haired girl in the corner seemed to nearly fall out of her chair, “you found a WHAT?” Her outburst pulled a slight laugh out of their newest friend, something that Shane realized with a pang that he envied about Rowan, someone he just met and he already couldn’t stand just cause they were better at making friends than the town drunk, Yoba he should go before he started spiralling in a room full of people.

Drunkenly, he thumbed some bills out of his wallet. He knew Emily would set his bill straight with him later, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t be here again tomorrow night after all. Shane pushed off the wall and made it through the din to the door, but not before looking back to the pool room, where some elaborate game of cutthroat was taking place. Again his eyes caught Rowan’s, they seemed to be sizing him up, he watched as they flickered over him, down and back up in less than the blink of an eye.

He turned to leave before he could see if they found it, his stomach more hollow than usual.

  
  


Saturday announced itself with a raging migraine, the kind one only gets by willfully ignoring their baser needs while absolutely hammered. Shane groaned as he untangled himself from his blankets, his feet touching the cold of the floor with a wince. His socks were too thin to prevent that fresh hardwood floor wakeup call. Slowly and with great effort, he began the horrid trek to the kitchen right outside his door.

“-now of course tulips are completely edible! But that doesn’t mean they taste good.” Shane’s door opened to find the unusual sight of a guest in the house. They didn’t even acknowledge him as they summed up whatever wild story they had been bestowing upon Marnie and Jas. “Which is probably a lesson a 25 year old shouldn’t have to learn to begin with, but…” They shrugged and beamed down at Jas, who hugged a pink tulip gently to her chest, hiding her own smile behind its blushing petals.

Something in Shane tugged a bit at the display, Jas always made him soft, but the visitor provoked something in him he didn’t know how to untangle yet so he settled on continuing like he hadn’t walked in on anything of consequence, hoping he had remembered to stock up on the microwavable frozen pizzas.

Marnie hustled into her room, something about finding a vase as Shane shoved a pizza into the microwave.

“Do you know what kind of flowers are the best kissers?” Rowan piped up without much preamble. Shane could see Jas shake her head with curious eyes. “A tulip, on account of them being the only flower with _two lips_!” They quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles, quite unlike the 25 year old they had previously claimed to be. He bit back a groan at the honestly, horrible pun, very similar to the one they dropped on him when they first met.

A shadow fell over Shane’s microwave pizza, taller than Marnie or Jas could possibly provide. His RBF in full force, Shane turned to face his family’s guest.

“My tulips came in this morning,” Rowan drawled, holding a single red tulip between the two of them. “I realized I hadn’t had a chance to properly introduce myself to y’all as a neighbor and not as some weirdo covered in dirt sprinting across the town square.” Marnie smothered a laugh as she placed several more colorful tulips in a vase on the table, obvious recalling whatever Rowan was referencing. “So I figured I’d drop by with a prettier crop than potatoes so we could get acquainted.” 

They held out the tulip to Shane like a peace offering, an olive branch packed into petals and stems and the little bits where the pollen was. Tentatively, he took their offering, trying to be careful not to continue to blunder his way through whatever they were trying to accomplish here. Rowan’s smile was lopsided and something else that Shane couldn’t place in his current state.

“Well, sorry to dine and dash, but the farm life doesn’t allot many breaks for us humble laborers. I promise you’ll be the first and only ranch I come to once I get a coop up at the ol’ farm.” They turned that grin on Marnie, stepping away from Shane- staring dumbly at a flower, and to the door, where they left with a final wave at Jas.

“They smell like grass.” She added without much provocation. And honestly, Shane didn’t know what to make of that, but he could not know what to make of that from inside his room with his pizza and his video game hacks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact sharing is absolutely a love language and stanford should hire me to write a new book about all 500+ love languages

It had been 4 days since the Tulip Incident and Shane had not known peace since. Everyday he left Marnie’s ranch to head to Joja Mart and every fucking morning he would see those pink clad legs scampering around Cindersap. He was damn near certain that they weren’t human, how else could they be at the saloon late every night and still up with enough energy to go _foraging_ at the crack ass of dawn.

Though his encounters with Rowan the crazed farmer hardly ended there. His accepting of the tulip had opened the floodgates of gifts from them. Anything and everything was fair game to be shoved in his hands. Ironically his only reprise seemed to come in the form of his shifts at Joja, of which the normally adventurous farmhand seemed to avoid like the fucking plague.

Today was no different, Shane noted distantly, as he closed the front door carefully behind him; looking up to see the subject of his thoughts chasing a frog around the lake, a crumbling sword thumping against their back as they clambered after the much more agile amphibian. He genuinely had no idea what to make of the scene, deciding instead to make his get away before they spotted him and tried something like giving him a frog.

Halfway through the town center he heard the telltale sounds of boots against the cobblestones, meaning Shane had yet to escape from their insanity.

“Dude your jacket is like,” Rowan slowed to match Shane’s slower stride. “Megafucked.”

Shane scoffed, “says the one currently covered in…” he gestured vaguely to the general grime that currently covered the farmer. Rowan had the gall to look proud about it. Why was it so hard to be mad to them? It had worked the first time and Shane hadn’t known peace since. Maybe this was about that Karma thing Emily was always going on about.

“I could mend it for you if you want? I’m pretty good with my hands,” Shane didn’t even bother reacting at this point, every conversation was some innuendo or pun with them. “I can’t do anything fancy, but I can darn socks and fix seams.” 

Abruptly, Shane stopped walking; leaving Rowan to wander a few steps ahead before he turned around to face him. 

“What do you want?”

Rowan looked startled, “what do you mean?”

“No one is this nice or-” Shane couldn’t find a word to put down how outright infuriating Rowan was so he let the statement hang in the air for a moment. “Not without a reason. So what the fuck do you want?”

They had a quick recovery time, already Rowan had eased a bit. “I don’t know dude, you…” their smile slid a bit, “you looked like you could use someone looking out for you I guess.”

“You guessed wrong. So leave me the everloving _fuck_ alone.” This time Shane was the one to leave Rowan by the bridge next to the mountains. Leaving them behind him.  
\-----  
Wednesdays usually meant an empty saloon, but as of this week this single comfort had been overthrown by whatever the fuck was transpiring by the pool table, cause it sure as hell wasn’t pool- well actually it could have been pool, Shane admittedly didn’t know a lot about it.

The bright cackle of Rowan from the farm north of Cindersap echoed against the walls of the small building. They didn’t seem to know what an inside voice meant and that translated to every part of them, it’s no wonder they couldn’t be held in the restricting concrete of the city.

Shane scowled at his beer. He had become hyper aware of Rowan everytime he found himself in the same space as him. Though he guessed that wasn’t hard, they were usually the loudest thing in that space. From their hair, to their clothes, to any actual noise they made, it was hard not to notice them in any given room.

“Did you know woodpeckers have a spongey inner lining to their skull that keeps them from constantly giving themselves concussions?”

Hard to not to notice them unless they were standing right in front of you. “What the fuck are you talking about.”

“Woodpeckers,” Rowan said seriously and took a drink from their glass. “They’re small to mid sized birds that are common in these parts, I think the pileated woodpecker is one you’d see out in Cindersap.”

Shane furrowed his brows, “woodpeckers.” He confirmed, deadpan and not entirely sure this conversation was happening.

“Woodpeckers!”

Shane eyed their drink with what he understood was hypocritical disdain. “Are you drunk?”

Rowan waved him off with their free hand. “Nah,” they flustered at the quirk in Shane’s brow. “I mean! I’ve had a drink tonight, it’s a saloon after all, I just… don’t know how to talk to people?”

“Uh-huh.” 

They deflated. “I just want-”

“What?” Shane snapped, he couldn’t place why but Rowan _irritated_ him. “What do you want from me? Money? I’d give you a pot of gold to leave me alone!”

That spark was back as they set their jaw. “Have a nice night, Shane.” As they started to head back to the pool table they turned back. “Let me know if you want that jacket patched.” The others at the table welcomed them back with hushed voices and glances snuck back towards Shane, their topic of inquiry obvious.

With a heavy sigh Shane turned toward Emily, ready to settle his tab; he could finish the rest of his night in his room where he was the only hostile he had to worry about.

“Oh you don’t gotta worry about it,” Emily grinned like she wasn’t just watching Shane make the biggest ass of himself. “You’ve already been taken care of for tonight.” He didn’t have to ask, most everyone in this town knew better than that. 

Soon enough so would they.  
\-----  
The next few days was the blur of work and trying to help Marnie with the hens as they prepared for the Egg Festival. The hens always worked so hard this time of year and Shane was always worried that the stress would only get them pale eggs and molting chickens. Yet every year the ladies of the coop surprised him with how resilient they were. It was going to be scrambled eggs for breakfast for the next week for sure.

Jas was excited to help now that she was big enough not to accidentally fumble the eggs and Shane was excited to let her, though most of it was just letting her feed the hens while he extracted the eggs, the last thing they needed was one of the hens going egg crazy this time of year.

By the time the Festival was here, Shane was exhausted and was ready for the weekend to catch up on his sleep. He had half a week of chicken encouragement and Joja brand jingles to drink out of his system on top of his usual problems.

Not to mention that Rowan had left him alone for all of it.

That wasn’t to say that he didn’t see them; Shane was pretty sure they were in Cindersap more than their actual house considering how many mornings he had woken up at the asscrack of dawn to help with the chickens only to see them already hard at work at whatever the hell it was they did all day.

“Eggcellent festival, don’t ya think?” Said the devil Shane had been speaking of. “Chickens that eat spicy peppers are said to produce stronger egg shells.”

Shane rolled his eyes, there was a pattern to their speech that was easy to figure out; they rotated between puns, fun facts, and innuendo. Though the hot pepper thing was something he’d have to keep in mind for later.

“Do you ever stop talking?” The question was both parts cantankerous and a genuine question.

Rowan leaned close, forcing Shane to press his back into the table behind him. “Only if someone makes me.” And there was the innuendo. 

They leaned back, an arm retreating from behind Shane where they had plucked a strawberry from the bowl behind him. Moving away, they started to wonder towards where the egg hunt was going to start, saluting with the strawberry as they went. Shane could feel his ears burning, though his emotions were too jumbled to try and figure out which one was causing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey listen, the irony of doing shots while writing Shane-fic is not lost on me. 
> 
> I have no idea what I'm doing and that's incredibly sexy of me. Though I swear on my life every fun fact said in this fic is true. I had to guess that Stardew Valley is probably like northwest-ish so the woodpecker in question is a shot in the fucking dark though.
> 
> And to belay any of the chicken questions, chickens do eat eggs and its good for them! But a chicken that sees their egg being broken and then knows there is Delicious Goo inside will then be prone to breaking her own eggs to get said Delicious Goo. But scrambling some eggs for some hard working girls is good. I like to think that Shane has a lot of practical knowledge about chickens.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// suicidal ideation and talk of depression ahead (its after the second page break). I do my best to keep it vague and brief, but this is fic does have to tackle some heavy topics as we go through Shane's route. 
> 
> stay safe guys

It was hard to think that Spring was almost over. The evidence of it was abundant; the days grew longer and hotter. Anymore by the time Shane woke the sun was well established in the sky, painting the valley in its brightest shades even before any sane person would be awake to notice.

Though it seemed like Pelican Town might have those in short supply.

Early morning sunlight was streaming through Shane’s window as he blearily came to, trying to comprehend why someone would be knocking on his bedroom door. He’d been up entirely too long, trying to delay coming home until everyone there would have given up on him gone to bed. His hubris raged behind his eyes.

“Shane?” Marnie had stopped knocking and opted instead to try and shout at him through the door. Shane groaned an affirmative as he tried to get his feet under him. “I need you to run one of the chicks over to the farmer, they’re busy settling their new coop and I have to go talk to Robin about reshingling the roofs before the thunderstorms start up.”

Shane really wanted to say no, say that if never saw that loud, crested weirdo again it would be too soon. But he owed Marnie too much to say no to something as easy as chicken delivery. He could tolerate Rowan long enough to hand off a chick.

Shane got ready as quick as he was able. He had practice blocking out hangovers but that didn’t make the vertigo anymore tolerable. He jammed his feet into his work shoes and pulled open the door that divided his room from the kitchen.

Jas wasn’t awake yet and the only noise in the morning air was the soft peeping of a chick, tucked safely in a transport crate on the dining room table, a since piece of scotch tape labelling her “Attila the Hen”. Shane scoffed at the name, not really knowing what he expected, and hefted the crate with care.

It was thankfully a short walk to the farm north of the ranch. Shane had fully prepared himself to find the farm in a similar state as it had been the last time he had seen it; decrepit and overrun with weeds and litter- so the reality of it surprised him.

In most of a single season, Rowan had cleared out most of the debris and sectioned off the various corners to be regulated to specific crops and growth schedules. Somehow Rowan had always struck him as someone who had taken up the offer of a free farm and had then decided to rest on their laurels.

Some movement to his left caught his attention and Shane turned to see the new coop with its nice fenced in pen of grass, and beside it, Rowan…

They were already shiny with sweat despite the early hour. The day promised to be a hot one and it had them dressing accordingly in their sun bleached cargo shorts and a tank top that had seen better days was stuck to their back with moisture. The muscles underneath bunched and unfurled as they swung a scythe back and forth with measured cuts.

Shane’s mouth went a little dry at the sight, staring for what was probably much too long for polite company, but his brain had opted for a hard reboot as he was transfixed by how their deltoids lifted biceps lifted forearms.

The heat of the day was quickly becoming unbearable.

Rowan came to a stop, their shoulders heaving a bit with the effort they had expended. They turned back to the fence, where a small clump of food and water waited for them. With a sigh they lifted the hem of their tanktop to mop at their face and the hair that had plastered itself there, unknowingly exposing their stomach- smooth and taut with effort, to what had become their audience.

Shane let out a hacking cough as he inhaled some spit along with his tongue, effectively startling both himself and Rowan in one fell swoop.

To their credit, Rowan didn’t look the slightest bit annoyed at the idea that Shane had been watching them for an undisclosed amount of time, just insanely happy to see Shane. They bounded over to him like a giant loyak lapdog.

They came to a stop in front of him, seemingly way too excited to find Shame on their farm.

“Shane!” They hesitated as they stood before him, like they couldn’t figure out how to proceed with the exchange after exclaiming his name. Their bright eyes fell on the transport crate he held. “Attila!” They yelled instead, loud like it wasn’t 6:30 in the goddamned morning. “Come on, let’s see if she likes her new home.”

Rowan moved to head back toward the coop and its neat fencing, gesturing for Shane to follow after them.

As usual, Robin had done a great job on the coop, there was plenty of room for… Attila… and maybe three more chickens barring any upgrades to a larger building.

Shane released the chick into the grass by the coop, though she stuck close to him. Unsurprising considering he was the one most likely to come bearing some chicken treats.

“Wow,” Rowan’s signature shit eating grin returned to their face and Shane braced for the worst. “I guess you could say-”

“I really wouldn’t-”

“That you’re a real chick magnet!”

He wasn’t sure why, but Shane found himself laughing in spite of himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he had honestly laughed, and especially not this hard. For their part in it, Rowan looked baffled, and maybe a little awed as they took in the sight of Shane busting a gut in the otherwise quiet confines of their farm.

Eventually Shane was able to compose himself, mostly. The tips of his ears and the tops of his cheekbones were warm and dusted ever so slightly pink. Rowan leaned back against the fence looking languid and happy. Shane’s blush flared like they had poured gasoline on the fire that was consuming him from the inside out.

“What?” He demanded, trying to avoid their eyes.

“You have a nice laugh,” the way they looked at him made his stomach squirm like he had drank too much alcohol on too empty a stomach. “I would love to hear more of it.”

Shane’s hands shook, trembling with the force of some inner turmoil that he himself wasn’t fortunate enough to be privy too.

“I have to go.”

He fled the farm before he could hear Rowan’s attempt to call out to him.  
\----  
Sam had already started in on the inventory checklist for the day by the time Shane had shown up for their shift. He had tried valiantly to get his face to cool, but something in Rowan’s gaze had lodged itself right between his fourth and fifth rib, threatening to pierce his heart if he wasn’t careful which way he twisted.

“Oh my god, dude, are you okay?” 

Shane guessed he wasn’t too good at it.

“Does it matter?” He tried to adopt his usual abrasive skin, though the wouldbe barb came out a little too breathless to work as intended. “Don’t we have work to do?” He busied himself with the clock in computer so he wouldn’t have to meet Sam’s laughing eyes.

There was a gleam in Sam’s eyes that held the hint of suggestion, his smarmy grin insisting he knew something Shane didn’t. The urge to punch his coworker came in waves as he was forced to circle him as they brought the new product out to the shelves.

“What the fuck do you want asshole?” Shane snapped as he was forced to watch Sam waggle his eyebrows at him through his lunch break of absolutely fuck all- the farm incident had him neglecting to nab whatever leftovers where stashed in the fridge at home.

“Nothing!” Sam said in the way one says something when they actually mean _’Everything!’_. “Just that I saw you stumbling away from Cat’s Eye Farm with your face trying to start a forest fire.”

Shane’s mouth worked open and closed but no words managed to disentangle themselves from the spasm of emotions that tore through his brain.

Sam took this as a sign to continue, _for some reason_.

“Guess you guys finally resolved whatever you had going on. Congrats!” The thing in Shane’s ribs twisted of its own accord, scraping against his defenses and leaving his insides raw.

“We had nothing, and will continue to have nothing.” Shane spat, rising from the table with as much calm as his boiling blood could muster. “Especially considering that I can’t _fucking stand them_.” He carefully pushed his chair back under the table before storming from the break room back onto the sales floor.

The rest of the shift ran smoothly, in as much as that Sam avoided him like the plague for the rest of it.

Shane’s heart hurt, he didn’t know who to blame that on.  
\----  
After his morning at the farm with Rowan and his shift at Joja with Sam, Shane really didn’t want to show his face at the saloon tonight. The obvious solution was to just buy an 8-pack after work and hide out at the lake and hope if he fell in that drowning was supposed to be painless.

The sun had long since set; the only evidence it ever existed to warm him was the lingering warmth in his hair and in the wood beneath him. Though both were leeching it into the night air as the hours continued to roll on.

“Shane?” He would never know how they managed to move around so quietly, how they could sneak up on him when they were in plain sight.

Rowan stood just close enough to be able to catch some of the lantern light, showing that they had cleaned up again for their nightly trek to the saloon. Shane distantly wondered if there was someone there they were trying to impress- but that thought was quickly quashed before he could let himself think about how he would feel about that.

“Dude, are you okay?” He realized he had spent this whole time staring at them, eyes glassy with drink as his brain did its best to drag him down under its waves.

“Nah,” Shane’s laugh this time was dry and devoid of all humor. A ghost of the one brief moment of joy he hadn’t been able to pick part before it escaped him this morning. “Absolutely not.”

Carefully, Rowan approached him on the pier, like they did frogs on rainy days, where you had to try not to scare them or lose them back into the lake. “You wanna talk about it?” He really didn’t but it seemed like he didn’t always have a say in that.

He passed Rowan a beer without looking at them. “I feel like… I’m stuck…” He bit at his lip, knowing he wasn’t the most eloquent of men. “Everyday I wake up hungover- my own doing, go to a job I _hate_ \- also my fault, then I go to the saloon so I can do it all over again when I wake up the next day.” He took a long sip of his beer, not quite ready to start on another drink as he acknowledged his problems. “I’ve dug my own grave and I’m not even smart enough to realize it.” The cool can felt nice as he pressed it against his forehead.

A shoulder bumped his, startling him into looking at his drinking companion.

Rowan popped their beer open and started chugging it; their throat exposed and highlighted as they managed to down the whole thing in _four goddamn gulps._

Shane could feel the thing pecking its way to his heart again.

“Yeah,” Rowan’s own eyes were glassy, though he doubted it was from the alcohol. “I think I know what you mean.” They blinked a few times, like they were remembering where and when they were, before they smiled and turned it on Shane- making his stomach clench around the butterflies and alcohol.

“Well! I think that’s about all my liver can take for tonight.” Shane stood a little too fast, nearly coming through with his early threat of making the lakebed his new forever home- only for warm, rough hands to catch him again. A parody of their first meeting. Though this time the world around them- with its looming shifts and crops and drunken walks late and alone in the woods- couldn’t make its way between the two of them just then.

“Hold on,” Rowan kept one hand on Shane as the other dug in their pockets, the stupid cargo shorts they insisted on hindering what felt like it was supposed to be a significant moment between them. “Got it, sorry.” Both their hands came to cradle one of Shane’s and he realized how gentle they were despite the calluses and scars he could just make out in the darkness.

Something solid was pressed into his hand, warmed by the heat of their body. “Happy Birthday, Shane.” They leaned in and for one dizzying second Shane thought they were going to kiss him, but even as nice as they were, pity could only extend so far. Instead they squeezed his hand in both of theirs, leaving behind some of their warmth as they turned to head back to their own house.

A crack near his heart signaled that he was severely more fucked that he had any right to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen the best part of this is how absolutely in denial Shane is going to be for like.... 80% of it.... but that's the fun part of a slow burn, how you can watch one character lovingly stare at the other as they go "nah this is normal, I as a broken human being that is unable to form proper relationships would know :)"
> 
> also on a scale of 1 to 10 how obvious is it that I work retail


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year!

By all means, it was a gorgeous rock; a shimmery translucent purple that came to a sharp point on one end. The weight of it was pleasant and its surface seemingly polished to the smooth, reflective nature of a mirror. By all means it wasn’t a bad gift at all.

Shane wanted to hurl it into the lake the second Rowan was out of sight. 

It wasn’t really the rock’s fault, or Rowan’s; Shane just wasn’t entirely sure he knew how to be a human at this point.

They had remembered _his_ birthday. They remembered his _birthday_! Shane couldn’t be bothered to remember his fucking birthday, and yet not only had Rowan known; they got him something.

\-----

The spring dance marked the end of the season, another reminder of the passage of time outside the ever turning days and nights. Everyone in town was abuzz, but that was the way of the small town; with few things to look forward to, the ones you could became the biggest damn thing this side of anything.

Shane really didn’t want to go, but free food was free food.

The walk to the saloon was over before it started, his thoughts kept him from noticing the hours that passed. While normally that would be like picking a scar, his thoughts anymore felt like a washcloth over fevered skin. The recent chaotic turn of his life enough to keep his mind off of the harsher realities it was intent to share with him otherwise.

Absentmindedly Shane palmed the rock that had come to find its home in his pocket- a habit he’d formed in the three days since it had been gifted to him. Something about it- the motion of rubbing his thumb across its smooth surface, or the weight of it in his pocket, he wasn’t sure- calmed the jagged part of Shane that had fractured and threatened to puncture something delicate and fleshy inside of him.

God all this metaphorical thinking bullshit made him thirsty as hell, so he pushed forward into the saloon. As usual he was slightly earlier than the other regulars, but that’s how Shane liked it. Gave him enough time to get good and proper drunk before anyone could even think about trying to communicate with him. Though anymore that was optimistic if his past few weeks were anything to go by.

“Evening Shane,” Rowan’s voice seemed husky as they leaned over his shoulder from the doorway behind him. “Mind sidestepping slightly so we might be able to squeeze in?” Their hand hovered slightly over his incredibly thin hoodie- trying not to touch without his permission- thin enough that he could feel how warm they were as they tried not to get shoved in by their companions.

“Well excuse me,” Shane sneered, though his usual bite was absent. Reluctantly, he moved out of their warmth and into the comparative cold of the rest of the bar. Rowan laughed and led their friends into the saloon, heading off to the corner Shane was now only ever able to describe as ‘theirs’, the warmth and conversation drifted after them, leaving Shane to his lonely corner hidden beside the chimney.

“What do you got there?” Emily leaned against the bar beside him, her eyes locked on his hand, which had been fiddling with the stone outside of his pocket. “Looks like an amethyst; it has an incredible amount of positive energy coming off of it.”

Shane had no earthly idea what that was supposed to mean. “It’s a rock.” He made sure to share this fact with Emily, in case she was possibly unaware of it.

“Yeah, but it’s also an amethyst,” she produced a stein of beer at some point during the conversation, which Shane desperately needed if this was going to continue. “They hold good energies and are suppose’ to help clear the mind of worries and stress.” She waited for Shane to take a draw of his beer. “They’re considered love stones when given as a gift.”

His beer turned to slag in Shane’s mouth, he slammed the stein on the table as he tried to remove the offending liquid from his lungs; his eyes watered at the effort.

“Oh god,” someone on the other end of the saloon swore. “Fuck dude, are you okay?” And once again Rowan’s hands were warm against him. “It’s spit or swallow, not both.” The worried crease between their brow made the innuendo lose some of its usually burn.

“Would you _please_ shut up?” Shane wheezed, his voice rough as he tried to get used to breathing air instead of beer again. He startled as he realized how close Rowan had gotten to him, their smile compacted into a smirk just for him.

“Why don’t you make me?” Their lips parted to show off their teeth, sharper than Shane thought they ought to be; making them look vulpine as they crowded him into the corner. “Like what you see?” With a jolt, Shane was forced to realize he had spent entirely too long looking at and thinking about Rowan’s mouth.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” Shane huffed indignantly as he tried to will the heat from his cheeks. He grabbed his beer and tried to hide his face behind another- less deadly- draw of it. “I’m fine, you didn’t need to come vaulting across the damn place.”

Rowan’s pout was burned into Shane’s mind from how often it was foisted on him. “You can’t _vault_ me for wanting to help.” His groan was audible, he didn’t know what he expected anymore. Their eyes fell to his jacket and he sighed noisily through his nose.

“Fine.” The word was out before he could think too much about it.

“What?”

“You can fix my jacket,” Shane was trying to weigh the pros and cons of taking it off now versus trying to coordinate the effort later. The latter seemed like entirely too much work he had to admit as he started to shrug out of the battered hoodie. Rowan took it when he offered it, taking it gently in their hands like they were scared to break it. “Try to get it back before it’s cold again.”

“I really hope it won’t take that long. I’m not that out of practice.” They busied their hands with carefully folding the hoodie. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Free food is a very good motivator to get out of bed on a day off.” 

“Great, I’ll see you then.” They threw down a wink and hurried back to their friends. 

Something in Shane had settled oddly after the whole interaction, and somewhere to his right Emily was doing her best to act like she hadn’t been listening to them the whole time. He didn’t know if he had a bad feeling about all of this, but it was certainly a feeling for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so did y'all know that amethysts were carved to hold wine in Ancient Greece and were thought to help prevent drunkenness'??? things to keep in mind for sure........


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who got the flu in the middle of the plague

Shane couldn’t imagine being so active this early in the morning. It had to be a mental condition to be able to be up and functional before noon- yet here the entire town was, spinning and singing and dancing like they had nowhere else they’d rather be… which all things considered there probably wasn’t.

By his vantage point at the banquet tables Shane could see the entire town go about their festivities while he hid among the platters piled high with the labors of the late spring harvests.

“Lovely day for a party,” Rowan stood before him in what someone, somewhere might try to describe as their Sunday best. A pressed pink button down shirt was tucked into their slacks and a violet vest took up most of their torso, making a kaleidoscope of spring colors turn in their eyes. “I have a peace offering.” Like a magic trick they pulled a parcel from behind their back, where their hands had been the whole time.

“Oh I wonder what it could possibly be,” Shane accepted the package, they had wrapped it in tissue paper with a ribbon to complete the picture. “Do you not sleep?” He scrutinized the wrapping, it had only been 10 hours since they had last seen each other and Shane knew for a fact that they still had to be up at 6 to water their crops before the dance.

“Insomnia, it helps with some things,” they explained, dodging the question. “Enough about me, take a look at the jacket!” Rowan was practically vibrating with excitement. In another life Shane might have been able to find it endearing- for now he forced himself to look away from them and focus on their gift.

He tried his best not to tear the paper but the tissue was so delicate that he gave up on the effort halfway through and pulled the jacket free of its fragile prison. 

Shane wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but Rowan didn’t really do much but fix the old hoodie. For some reason he expected them to embellish his outfit as much as they did their own. Instead the changes were subtle; some gold thread around the cuffs and hood, a small red tulip on the right wrist, and where the J on his breast once rested- was his name stitched in a shimmering green. No more holes or loose seams came up in his inspection.

“I was afraid of going overboard,” Rowan confessed gently. “I’ve been told I’m prone to… maximalism.”

“You?” Shane scoffed, trying to keep the fondness from coating his tone. “No fucking way.” A spark ignited in his being when he knew that their smile was because of him. “You- uh, you did a good job.” He liked it, and found he liked being thought of even more. It was hard to imagine this interaction happening to Shane a whole season ago; yet here he was, trying desperately not to get used to the idea of this.

Rowan shifted on their feet, “Do you,” Shane found he was panicking a little bit, “want to dance with me?” 

For all that Shane wanted so badly to say yes, he… couldn’t. Something deep in him constricted around his chest cavity and made it hard to breathe. “I- I don’t think I can.” 

Rowan didn’t look as crestfallen as Shane was expecting. “That’s fine!” They looked like they believed that too. “Do you want to watch the dancers with me?” Whatever had its talons in Shane’s heart relaxed slightly and let him catch his breath. He smiled up at Rowan, finding it easier than it had been before.

“Yeah,” he pulled on his new-old hoodie over his nice clothes. “Why not.”

\-----

The sky had started to bleed, the oranges and reds painting the sky in a vibrant sunset. It felt like the first time in years that Shane had actually seen it like this, in the way it bathed everything in the clearing in fire tones.

A yawn interrupted Shane’s waxing poetic. “Sorry,” Rowan’s profile soaked up the light and lit their features in red and gold. “All this proximity to dancing is making me sleepy, I guess.” And for once Shane didn’t think he could agree. That bone tired he’d been trying to shake off for years wasn’t at the forefront of his mind. 

He felt… not bad… It was the best he felt in a long, long time.

“Shane?” Rowan’s hand hovered close to his face, close enough he could just smell the cologne that lingered on their shirt cuffs. “Are you okay?” They were always close to him, but never quite close enough to touch.

“I’m fine,” he smiled and it came easy. “Guess other people dancing is pretty exhausting.” Rowan laughed and Shane’s heart skipped in time with the music. He felt like he was orbiting them, drawn into their gravity and body heat. He settled back against the fence that kept the forest from completely overtaking this clearing and Rowan followed suit.

“Did you know,” despite himself Shane was happy for Rowan’s tendency to overshare. “That sunlight activates the serotonin receptors in your brain? Similar to how dopamine is released with-” their hand barely ghosted over Shane’s on the fence, “bodily contact.”

All of Shane was focused on their single point of contact, on how their skin seemed to scorch and soothe him all at once, and how they had yet to remove their hand from his.

“Sounds like hippie shit.” Though his mouth seemed to run on autopilot. He still didn’t know why Rowan insisted on being so close but it was a miracle they hadn’t been run off yet.

“They certainly did seem to know a thing or two about _bodily contact._ ” The eyebrow waggle was not only implied but in full effect as Rowan made sure to lean in so Shane could see how dexterous their facial muscles were. His face flared as a result of the new summer heat as the sun slipped below the mountains. 

The rest of the town slipped away from them then as Rowan came around in front of Shane, their hands a steady point of contact as Rowan became the only point of focus in Shane’s view. Their free hand came to carefully rest on his cheek and they ducked to look properly in his eyes, though Shane’s attention was momentarily diverted to their mouth as their teeth worried at their bottom lip.

“Do you-” they fumbled, unsure of themself for the first time Shane had seen. “Can I-?”

Jas tugged on his sleeve, “Shane?”

Rowan jumped away like they had been burned, skidding across the grass in their hurry to put space between the both of them. Shane felt very, _very_ cold in the burgeoning summer air. “What’s up, Jas?”

“It’s getting late....” her hands plucked at the hem of her dress, “and Marnie went with Mr. Lewis and Vincent already went home…” She let her sentences drift off like she didn’t know what to do with any of that information either.

Shane sighed, he can’t imagine this was as interesting for her as it had been for him- though considering that Rowan wouldn’t even meet his eyes, he didn’t see any reason to wait around either. He pulled himself together, hoping he didn’t look as disappointed as he was as he let Jas lead him back toward the ranch.

He didn’t think he could take whatever he saw if he looked back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bro are we yearning yet idk
> 
> please if you enjoy this fic rate comment and subscribe
> 
> tho fr if you like my writing and want to see more you can bug me about requests @infallibleavian on tumblr and twitter or comment, it helps keep my motivation up

**Author's Note:**

> As usually I claim no posting schedule cause I work full time and I'm only really writing this because my holiday depression makes it easy to crank out fanfic, ESPECIALLY something this fucking self indulgent. Its called coping folks you can ask your therapists and everything!


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